In the waking of tomorrow’s doom,
searching for substance beyond hope,
war and poverty put many in a tomb,
walking in the darkness hard to cope.
Standing where the sun once shined,
left with emptiness and such sorrow,
memories fade into a bottle of wine,
wondering will there be a tomorrow.
Skipping a stone across the still pond,
with it goes all our hopes and dreams,
standing without even a magical wand,
to fight all the savage earthly schemes.
The soldiers appear in the dark of night,
blood dripping from their shining blades,
such fear of death creates an awful fright,
running in circles through an endless maze.
Shadows dance upon the begotten wall,
friend or foe, for we just never do know,
figures standing erect and ever so tall,
in the stillness, the wind begins to blow.
The imagery you painted in each stanza is so vivid. Each stanza being a different representation of 'uncertainty'. Its haunting but very good!
Take care,
Herman
